Diary
by mousepad
Summary: Diary of an OC with the game's survivors in the L4D environment.
1. May 3

May 3.

All right. This is day 3... of I don't know... the zombie apocalypse? The first day was uneventful. I didn't witness anything. All I had heard was radio and TV broadcasts. No one knew anything at that point. The newscasters told us there was some crazy shit going down in New York City and Boston. But that crazy shit was spreading... and fast. It made me raise my eyebrows because New York isn't too far away from Philly, and I live just thirty minutes from the city.

I immediately made a trip to the supermarket down the street. I was certainly going to heed the advice of the TV and hold up in my apartment until they could tell us what the hell was going on. I didn't have to work for the next three days as it is. I bought a shit ton of bottled water... five cases. Tons of canned food also; Chef Boyardee, veggies, fruit, tuna, just anything I could stomach to eat if this turns bad. I really didn't foresee this shit turning bad though, I was pretty optimistic in our government's ability to control an outbreak of... disease... I guess.

Anyway, so I made my way back to my apartment and made some phone calls. My parents and my brother were first on my list. None of us were scared. I called a few friends and we made plans for a couple beers on Friday. I decided, quite foolishly really, to call an ex, one whom I was still very much in love with. She lives in New York. First she bitched at me for having the nerve to call. Then she changed her tone and confided in me. She'd seen the infected people. A few were stumbling around in the alley behind her building. When they took notice of her, they charged. She didn't know how people, especially those who are supposed to be deadly ill, could move so fast. Their faces were changed. Their skin was a greyish-green color, their eyes a pure milky white. No words, just moans. She was rescued by two police officers that shot them square in the face. This is a real threat, she told me. Don't underestimate these things and don't move unless you have to. She told me to be safe.

I admit it. I had chills up and down my spine when I hung up with her. Maybe this shit was real. Alison wouldn't lie to me, at least not about something like this. I didn't want to be alone. Shit scares me. I admit it! I don't watch horror movies, read Steven King, or play scary video games. Real life outbreaks of mind and body altering diseases are just too much. I paced around for a bit. My parents are in Pittsburgh, my brother even farther, in Chicago. All my friends are with their girls.

I'm alone.

I made dinner and watched the news. It made me almost want to vomit my dinner up. The outbreak was spreading at an alarming rate. Stay in your homes, bar the doors, bar the windows. Don't leave. They showed footage of downtown New York. It looked innocent enough. Just looked like people, drunk in the streets, shambling around. Closer looks though... fucking freaked me out.

As it started to get dark outside, I pushed the dresser from my bedroom out to block the door. I didn't know if it would do any good but it gave me piece of mind.

The second day, I called Alison again. She answered in a whisper. They can hear her, she said. They get alerted so easily through sound. One had gotten in her apartment last night. Her boyfriend punched it straight in the jaw, sent it flying head over feet... He had to repeat it four more times before it stayed down. My heart ached for me to be the one there with her, protecting her. But I was glad she wasn't alone. They were now in her bedroom, all the furniture pushed against the door. It seems they were going to be okay, although her boyfriend had developed an annoying cough. Our conversation was only three minutes long.

I didn't know what to do with myself. My parents were okay; they were taking shelter in the basement. They had plenty of food and water. I hope they hold out, if this disease gets to them. My brother didn't answer his phone all day. The street outside was still busy with people. I wondered if I was taking this thing a bit too seriously. I eventually just went to sleep around 7:00, only to wake up around 2:00 am. My blood almost ran cold as I looked out the window to check on things.

Two cars had crashed into each other right outside my window. A bunch more had been seemingly abandoned, lights on, doors open. The worst sight though, was seeing two figures about a block away. They were moving slowly, tripping and stumbling. I couldn't believe it. I grabbed my cell and dialed Alison. No answer. Fuck. I dialed my buddy Zack. He was panicking. A bunch of the fuckers had gotten in his home, tore apart his girl, and bit him in the arm. He was in a closet, doesn't know why but they left him alone now. He was coughing and carrying on until he eventually just hung up on me. I called him back but he didn't answer. I'll try again soon.

I fought inside with myself. Suck it up, he needs help. But I couldn't bring myself to get in my car and go get him. The two figures I saw earlier were closer now. Almost directly in front of my building. I saw another where they had been, as unsteady on his feet as the other two. Then, I saw an older gentleman walking out of the front door below me. I gasped as the two figures noticed him. They looked shocked at first, then they broke into a full sprint and jumped him before he had a chance to react. All I saw then was his clothes being tattered and blood slowly forming beneath them. The lone figure almost a block away was suddenly there with them, joining in the bloodbath. Fuck, fuck, fuck. This is real. This is bad.

The rest of my day was spent sitting on the couch, watching the news, feeling helpless, and watching the numbers of stumbling idiots outside grow.


	2. May 4

May 4

The sun is rising. I didn't sleep at all. There were screams, gunshots, and sirens all night long.

The worst sound though? The moans, grunts, mumblings of those infected outside. The absolute worst sound is the sound they make when there's a living person out there. Well, a non-infected person I should say. The shrieks are inhuman, they sound as though they're coming from wild animals infected with rabies. They shriek, they sprint, they attack. And then it's over. They kill. They aren't eating the bodies, they just kill. I mean, shit, zombies eat brains right? These can't be zombies... at least not in that sense. I'm calling them zombies anyway, because they stumble around without a purpose, unless there's a regular person out there.

It's so creepy. They act just like they are regular people. Some of them sit on the ground, others lie down. They lean up against walls, bump into each other and cause fist fights. I can't quite figure it out. They're holding onto their heads as if they've got the biggest headache in the world. I suppose they do, really. A few of them were vomiting carelessly as they walked or leaned against a car.

The TV had no answers. I pushed more furniture up against my door.


	3. May 6

May 6

Still no sleep. My head is a fucking mess. They're in the building now. I heard a lot of screaming last night. My cell doesn't work today. There's like 25 of them outside in the street today. How many is there in the building then? I'm trying to be as quiet as possible. I'm still watching the news. It's not being broadcasted from New York or Philly anymore. It's from Florida. At least it's something. I filled up as many plastic containers with water as I had; just in case. I'm fucking scared. I hate being alone.


	4. May 7

May 7

Okay. Cool. I was watching out the window as a group of people moved through. They were complete badasses. Six of them, all with huge guns. They appeared almost flawless shots, dropping all the zombie fucks out in the street within seconds. Beautiful. I didn't want to risk the four floors to get down to them, but getting out of here would have been sweet.

Evening. News from Florida announces they are going off the air. They have to find shelter. The radio is the only form of news now. More zombies have crowded the street. Not as many as before, thank goodness. I wish I had a gun.


	5. May 11

May 11

The power went off two days ago. My water still works though. That's pretty cool. I have limited battery power, so I only listen to the radio about ten minutes at a time. The last few times I checked, there's only been a recorded message. A company called CEDA, listing precautions and tips, and listing the evacuation spots for this area. I know I would never make it on my own.

I wished for the Internet. What the hell is CEDA? Are they responsible for the outbreak? And what is it? Shit.

I only peeked at the infected outside from the corners of my curtains. I didn't want to be spotted. On the rooftops of the buildings across the street I could see a different kind of infected. Hooded figures that were incredibly fast, at all times, never slow and stumbling like the rest. I even saw a few of them jump from the street to the roof. That's at least eight fucking stories over there. I can't even wrap my mind around that. Also, there were tall figures, faster than the norm but not as fast as the hooded ones. They hung around the edge of the buildings, a strange green cloud around their heads. These were the ones that really freaked me out.


	6. May 12

May 12

I heard rustling around in the hallway about 7:00 am. My pulse increased and my ears perked. This is not good. A few minutes later, a quiet tapping at my door. Then a voice, "Anybody in there?" A trap? Why the hell would a zombie set a trap? And how? I had to check it out, I couldn't be alone much longer. I tapped back and quickly moved things out of the way. I opened the door slightly and looked out. A small girl, hot as hell rushed in. I locked up and quickly shoved things back in place. We took a moment and stared at each other. Her clothes were dirty and torn in a few places.

Her name was Zoey. She was nineteen and had been a student at the local college. She needed food and water, which I could spare. She had a handgun shoved in her back pocket. I offered her a shower and some clothes to change into. She washed hers in the bathtub and hung them to dry before going to my bedroom to sleep.

I'd fallen asleep on the floor, as my couch was being used as a blockade device. She gently shook me awake. It was dark. We spent the night talking. Mostly about ourselves and who we were. Suddenly, outside there was a shriek unlike anything we've heard yet. We went to my bedroom and peeked out. In the glow of the moonlight, we saw one of the hooded guys on the roof across the street. Two normal people were creeping along the street, a block away. The hooded one dropped into a crawling position and paced the edge of the building. He shrieked again. The two people kept walking, somehow managing not to alert the regular infected in the street. We watched as the hooded one jumped to the next building after them. He was stalking them. One of the people tripped suddenly, falling. The other nervously waited for the other to get on his feet. The hooded zombie shrieked again and pounced, hitting the standing guy dead on. His friend, having just got on his feet, was knocked down again in the impact. Meanwhile, the poor soul who had been pounced was getting clawed and what appeared to be ripped to shreds. The other guy got back on his feet and kicked the zombie off his friend. We couldn't see what happened next, but the two guys were safe. They beat him somehow.

Zoey had it in her mind that we had to help them. She grabbed a flashlight and flicked it on and off a few times in the window. They didn't see.


	7. May 13

May 13

It's raining out there. Amazingly, it seemed to clear out most of the zombies. A few were still there though. We sat in the kitchen, eating saltines and throwing a hacky sack across the room. We're trying to learn more about each other. And I, speaking for myself here, wanted to try very hard to forget about the ass hats outside. Zoey seemed in pretty good spirits today, also.

Punk rock. That's what we have in common. She had to look through all my CDs to make sure I was up to her standards. She found some guilty pleasures of mine but I passed the test, apparently. We both also hate dogs, and ice cream. And she said she'll kill all the spiders we come across. That's the girl of my dreams there.

She is really hot, by the way. I know I mentioned that but shit... She is short, probably 5'5". She's a brunette with typical cute face, soft features, and big bright brown eyes. Overall she has a very trusting face. I would follow her anywhere but mostly, I was just happy to have company. The handgun was one of her professor's. She had raided the campus before moving out. She only had two shots left. She told me what a zombie fanatic she was. So, this was perfect for her.

We had a really nerdy, boring conversation about everything she knew about zombies. Most of the facts were right, although tweaked. They died only once. She said, shoot them or bludgeon them. Ideally in the head, though not necessary, in this case. One shot in the head kills with a gun. It takes a few shots to kill in the chest. A few hits with something will kill. Things like a baseball bat, crowbar, lead pipe, it would take just one swipe; one good swipe.

They're just angry; they don't want to eat brains. They're out for the kill alone. I noticed that. We named the hooded one hunter. The way he stalked people was just absolutely insane. The tall ones with the cloud around them we called smoker. We thought we could hear them coughing...though it could have been anything out there, really. Those guys, the smokers, they still freak me out the most. I've seen what the hoody punks can do, I have yet to see the smokers unleash their havoc. Maybe they don't do anything... just stand there with the smoke billowing around them. Yeah... that's got to be it... totally.

The radio continued playing the same message. That dumb message that doesn't tell us shit.


	8. May 14

May 14

Still Raining. No worries. Zoey thought we should see if any of my neighbors were still around.

I was hesitant as fuck. She argued that there weren't any infected out there when she made it here. I said, the rain made them go somewhere. She relented. We heard a helicopter in the distance that day. We took a bed sheet and painted 'HELP' and 'ALIVE' on it and hung it outside the window. Zoey said it wouldn't work though. In zombie movies, it never works. Never hurts to try, I suppose.

Another small group of people moved down the street. They weren't as organized as the group of six I saw the other day. A smoker appeared at the edge of the building. Unknown to us, he had a giant tongue, which he shot out and used to snag one of the group. The rest moved on, unaware. He must of screamed because they all turned at once and reacted smoothly, one ran to their comrade, hitting him with the butt of his gun- attempting to free him from the tongue, while another took aim with a scoping hunting rifle and blew the fucker to hell. His body fell from the building in a huge cloud of smoke. Now they extra freak me out.

We wondered what other kinds of fucked up super zombies there were out there. What would make people's bodies do this? It must be some sort of super secret government produced biological weapon crazy disease. This science fiction shit is beyond any of my comprehension.


End file.
